We celebrate

You were born on July 2, just days before our nation celebrates it's independence. Therefore, every year you can be assured of three things:

1. You will always get a three day weekend!
2. There will be fireworks!
3. We will most likely celebrate your birthday before or after the holiday weekend, therefore extending your birthday celebration by a week of two.

This year, we picked Father's Day weekend to celebrate with a party so your dearest friends and family could attend. For your Fourth birthday, you requested a bathing suit party (Hallelujah for the simple request) and had a wonderful time sharing cake and fun with loved ones.

Your new bike was a birthday favorite!

Then, we took the celebration to Philly to visit two of your best friends, whom you are sure to treasure for a lifetime.

I loved that you picked this dress from all the others in your closet, and that this is how you slept in the car. Appropriate and sassy for a Fourth of July weekend in Philly, no?

You sat through your first movie, Toy Story 3, and enjoyed a pajama party with cupcakes. You played in the sprinkler and acted silly in the summer sun. It is such a joy for your Aunt Lisa and I to watch you all growing and playing together.

And then came the finale...the fireworks!

How many kids can say they get that on their birthday? Happy Fourth of July, America!

Happy Fourth Birthday, Katie!

A letter to my daughter on her Birthday

Dearest Katie, Kate, Katester, Katie-Boo, Sister,

One year ago, I sat in this same chair thinking of you and smiling. It is hard to believe yet another year has gone by, and that today...you are Four years old.

This past year seemed especially different. A big leap perhaps from the one before. You were incredibly brave when you were introduced to the Emergency room for the first time. You exuded confidence when adding preschool to your routine, showed great creative talent when left alone at nap time, and your personality is beginning to shine in so many ways.

At just four years old, I am in awe of you. You are surely the eldest. You walk cautiously through life, looking for answers, and protect your brother so that he doesn't do as he is told not to. Still, you remember to laugh. You have an amazingly contagious laugh that you generously offer when being chased by your brother or tickled by your Daddy. The kind of laughter that brings tears to my eyes. I want to bottle it up and keep it forever.

I still enjoy our weekend mornings and stormy nights when you find your way into our bed and snuggle up close. Where we whisper in the dark, and giggle in our girl talk.

You are sweet, sincere, loving, brave, and wise. You are Beautiful.

Happy 4th Birthday, Kate.

We love you. Always.

Simply perfect

You know those days where you fall back on your pillow feeling completely fulfilled? When you just feel good? Peaceful even? I had one of those days yesterday.

The day started like any other...I hit play on the BluRay to commence the chaos that is Looney Tunes while I dragged myself into the kitchen with a load of laundry. Only, on this morning, my husband had made it down before me. Stretched across the table on multiple 8.5 x 11 pieces of paper, were the words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY", with these hand written coupons attached.

Now, I like flowers and jewelry like any girl. But, these creative gestures, melt my heart. Like butter.

Fast forward...After our work days had come to an end, and dinner was cleaned up, we had a sundae picnic with friends on the living room floor. Then, we decided to head down to the Lake at sunset.

The kiddos squealed in delight as the ducks fought over their crumbled offerings.

Except for Conor. He wasn't much for sharing.

We saw birds...

And frogs...

And enjoyed a summer stroll with friends.

It was the perfect end to the perfect beginning.

Tiny Dancer

"A Dancers Prayer"

Dear Angel, Ever at my side

Be there today, my feet to guide

Help me dance high, and light, and free

So everyone will be proud of me.

May the judges be fair and the stages be spacious

In winning and losing, let me be gracious,

so that every dance I will remember with pride.

And Angel, please keep my shoelaces tied.

Tonight I remember your first dance recital.

We are so proud of you!

Licking my wounds with ice cream

I didn't know anything. I just knew I wanted the kids enrolled, and after a five minute conversation with my neighbor, jumped in her car and headed to the local high school...thirty minutes early. We walked through the double doors of the natatorium and took our spot at the end of the line, which wrapped around the hallway and half way down another. After a good forty-five minute lesson in patience, and conversation with many friendly Moms, I had received more information about the swim lessons than I did from any phone call or website inquiry. I was ready! We were ready!

Three weeks had past...

I made sure to put dinner on early, so they could eat in plenty of time before their scheduled lessons. We put our suits on and danced around the house in excitement. "I have a new bathing suit, Mama!" Katie explained. "Yaaahhhhh," followed Conor, hands stretched above his head.

Just as I did three weeks before, I arrived thirty minutes early (it's a problem I have). Since the sign on the door kindly asked us not to enter during the lesson and it was two minutes past the hour, we didn't. Instead, I encouraged the kids to watch the Moms and babies in the big pool through the hallway doors. They squatted down, shoulder to shoulder, and peeked through the ground level window. Every couple of minutes, Conor would turn his head over his left shoulder and point, notifying me the kids were still in the pool. Then, they would skip down the hall to the water fountain and back, as if watching made them thirsty.

After thirty minutes of this routine, it was our turn. As we rose from our seats, my sweet husband innocently asked me (bless him), "Why are you the only one in your bathing suit?" And, then, the fear set in.....could I have gotten the time wrong?

It was as if the answer came in slow motion, when she pointed to our names on the schedule next to the six o'clock hour. We had been watching our class...from the windows...for thirty minutes. And now, it was anothers turn. No Mom and baby class. No level one swimmers. My heart fell to my feet, right there on the side of the pool.

"What's wrong, Mama?" Katie asked. "Mommy made a mistake," I answered. "We can't go swimming today. We were too late." I think it was then, looking at her face, that my heart rolled into the pool and sank to the bottom...of the deep end.

We slowly walked to the car, loaded up the kids, buckled ourselves in, and I cried. I cried because I felt like I had let them down. I felt like the worst Mom ever. I felt empty.

Then, from the back seat, I heard the words, "Don't cry, Mom. Ice cream will make you feel better".

And just like that, our four year old had once again amazed me. We went to Sonic, treated ourselves to some fun frosty drinks, and smiled all the way home...in our dry suits...to try again on Monday.

She was right. Ice cream did make me feel better.

You say it better

It was 8:30pm on Monday night. Bedtime. Little Kate decides she needs to talk to Mom Mom. If we hadn't tried to call without success twice already, I would have postponed the request another day. But, instead, I handed her the ringing phone.

"Hi, Mom Mom..."

From my office, I could hear their conversation. They talked about the weather, their dogs, school, summer, her upcoming dance recital, and a string of other things like the piggy bank that sat on her dresser or how she "threw up" in the car. I think she may have even gotten in a rough twenty seconds with Pop Pop.

If you ask me one day what you were like at this age, I could describe you. But, your words from this one conversation with Mom Mom tonight say it so much better.

You get that from your Father

Nine months ago, you picked out your favorite Princess dress, grabbed your backpack, and simply waved goodbye as you made your way to a table full of new faces. Since that day, you have grown leaps and bounds. You recite a prayer before our evening meal, say the pledge of allegiance with pride, and write your name in such a fancy way...

It goes something like this...

Big K.

then Little a... A circle with a little leg.

Little t...Just like the cross, Mama.

Little i.

Little e...You start at the bottom and go around like a circle...and then poke it in the belly!

Today, your first year of pre-school is over and in just one month...you will turn Four. As we drove home from the park, I was thinking about the year passed and took a wrong turn. It was no surprise to you, because even at the age of four, you know that I am directionally challenged. But, what followed next made both of us break into laughter.

Kate: Mom, Did you take a wrong turn, again?

Mom: Yes, Kate. But, I will find my way.

Kate: Does Daddy need to come help us again?

Mom: Um, no. I am just fine, Kate. You don't think Mommy can find her way?

Kate (laughing hysterically): No, Mama.

Just four years old, and already exercising her Dad's sense of humor. Sheesh.